Later that night as they undressed for bed, Fitzwilliam was anxious to discuss the evening. Since Elizabeth had accused him of trying to hide her away when he first found her after their yearlong separation, he wanted to reassure her with more than mere words. This evening was to be the beginning of his well-laid plan to present her to the public.
“Elizabeth, how did you like your first evening out in London?”
“I enjoyed it very much. Everyone seemed very pleasant and not at all like I had expected, but I did get the impression that it was a little stifling to you,” she said as she sat before her dressing table and took down her hair.
“I have to confess, I never did like being on public display, but I want all of London to know that I am exceedingly proud of my wife and that I love you. And I want you to know that I’m not ashamed of you as you once thought.” He took her hand in his, stroking her fingers.
She rose from her vanity and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Fitzwilliam, I know now that my thoughts during our separation were a collection of misjudgments.”
“That’s true,” he said, tightening his embrace, “but I still want you to know with more than just words. As I said, I plan to take you out into London society and show you as much as I can of what there is to see whilst we have the time.”
She snuggled into his arms, allowing him easier access for a kiss. Since the children were asleep, they took full advantage of the moment they had before other priorities claimed their time.
~*~
The next day while taking his coffee in their sitting room, Fitzwilliam perused the morning paper. He and Elizabeth were on the front page of the society section of the Times with a picture featuring him wearing a wide smile and Elizabeth appearing very composed and beautiful. The society pages featured a well-written Cinderella story about a man who chose to marry the woman he loved in spite of his father’s disapproval.
Fitzwilliam had given the interview the day before, detailing how they had met and fallen in love. As evident from the story, London had been curious about the mystery woman who had captured the heart of one of the most eligible and richest men in the United Kingdom, and his intention was to make her the darling of the press in order to dispel the negative image they had previously created because of her middle-class American status, not to mention her cousin’s tarnished reputation. Overall, Fitzwilliam was pleased with the story. The first step in the right direction had been taken.
After breakfast, Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam made arrangements for their shopping trip. She left instructions for the nannies as well as breast milk for Alex and Emily. With all the arrangements settled, Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth left for Bond Street.
Their first stop was a salon specializing in the care of long hair where he bought her a full line of products. Watching her pick up and put down a Mason Pearson brush with natural bristles twice, Fitzwilliam smiled. Knowing she wanted it, but was probably reluctant because of the price, he quietly instructed the sales person to add it to the purchase, along with a handmade sheep’s horn comb to go with it.
Going from one shop to the next, he bought her more dresses, casual wear, formal wear, shoes, accessories, and lingerie than she thought she would ever need. Some of the things she considered either excessively expensive or too provocative, bordering on immodest, but he insisted, assuring her that women in London society would be wearing this and less. She simply smiled and shook her head as he paid for the purchases. Before it was all said and done, they had gone to so many boutiques that Fitzwilliam had lost count, and when the expenses were counted up, it came to over £30,000. Fitzwilliam only smiled at her shocked expression.
They ate lunch at a sidewalk café and then stopped by the house to check on the twins and drop off the packages. Next they set out to tour The Victoria and Albert Museum with a promise from Fitzwilliam to take her to the National Art Gallery where one of the greatest art collections in all of Europe was housed. They made plans to see Westminster Abbey, the castles, the Tower of London, and as many of the museums and galleries as time would permit.
Of course, the paparazzi appeared, snapping pictures and asking questions, and each time they asked, Fitzwilliam gave them a brief interview. Appearing relaxed, he showed how very fond and protective he was of his wife as he casually wrapped an arm around her.
Speaking with Elizabeth, the press formed a very positive impression and warm regard for her. Her friendly smile and sparkling green eyes were hard to resist. Fitzwilliam hoped their curiosity would soon be satisfied and the media would move on to the next story so that he and Elizabeth could soon enjoy a normal life.
When Sunday arrived, Fitzwilliam insisted they all attend church services as he wanted Alex and Emily to grow up in the Anglican Church. Elizabeth agreed since her father had felt similarly about taking his children to the small Southern Baptist Church near Longbourn when they were young.
Sitting in church, cradling his baby daughter against his chest, Fitzwilliam couldn’t have been more content with his life and family. While all heads were bowed for the closing prayer, he gave thanks that he’d found the woman he’d always dreamed of and had the family he’d always wanted.
Chapter Sixty-three
…every place of refuge has its price…
Cecilia entered her cold, dark house and slowly trudged up the stairs to her lonely room. With Elizabeth and the children gone, the house seemed so big…and empty. And for the first time in her life, she was lonely. Yes, she’d been alone before, especially after her father’s death—but never lonely. With a heavy sigh, Cecilia contemplated paying a visit to her godfather. Though she saw him at the office every day, she hadn’t been to No. 33 ½ Legare St. in months. No. She shook her head. She couldn’t go there. It would be too humiliating to let Daniel see her like this. He would know. He always knew. So, no, a visit to Daniel was out.
Cecilia let out a long breath. Since that awful confrontation with David, all she could do was sit in the quiet of her room each night, reliving their times together while listening to the CD he’d given her. The candle, now long spent, she’d replaced. Cecilia moved to her closet and hung her purse on the doorknob. Turning, she walked over to light the new candle. Before changing her clothes, she once again slipped the CD into the sound system.
Gently drawing back the bedcovers, she smoothed the sheets, softly caressing David’s pillow. Breathing in the sweet scent of Sensual Orchid, she could almost feel his presence in her room—in her bed once more.
What had been the difference between David and the other men she’d known? Mulling it over, she sighed. It was manhood. While most men never learned the secret, David, like her father, understood what it meant to be a man. He was strong and confident, secure in who he was, and he made her feel like a woman. That’s why she’d fallen for him…and why the pain of losing him was so acute.
She’d never known what it was like to be loved until she met him. He had given her a sexual experience she knew she would never have again—a connection so deep that it came straight from the heart. No one would ever replace him. No one would even come close. She shook her head. She’d never allow another man that close again. No one would ever be given the power to break her heart like David had.
Walking over to the side table, she opened a fresh bottle of peach brandy and poured herself a stiff drink. Another night, another bottle of brandy. This couldn’t go on. This was not like her.
…Celia, get a grip. Face it…he’s gone. You knew it wouldn’t last…it was too good to be true. Cameron was right. Cameron…he’s called you twice. You need to return his call.
Picking up the phone, she punched in his number. “Cameron, it’s Celia. I need to talk. Can you come over? I’m at the townhouse.”
“What’s wrong, baby? You sound down. Did he leave you?”
“How very perceptive of you,” she smirked. “Let’s just say it didn’t work out. Too many cultural differences, I suppose,” she lied. Hell would freeze over before she confes
sed anything to him.
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes. You need to get out. I have a standing table down at The Wharf. Do you feel like seafood tonight?”
She laughed. “When have I ever not felt like seafood? I’ll be ready—and Cameron—don’t be late.”
“Celia babe, I’m never late.”
~*~
True to his word, Cameron arrived at her door on time with flowers and a bottle of champagne. Cecilia invited him in while her maid took the flowers and put the champagne in the refrigerator. As Sandy was about to place the flowers in a vase, Cecilia stopped her.
“No, not that vase. I want you to pack it away. Use Grandmother Lawton’s crystal vase in the drawing room.”
“Sure, Ms. Lawton.” Sandy frowned. “It’s an awfully pretty vase to be packed away, though. Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. Pack it away.”
She couldn’t bear to see Cameron’s flowers in David’s vase. That night at The Woodlands had been special. Thinking back upon it, she realized that was the night she had begun to fall for him.
Looking at his watch, Cameron prompted, “Celia, are you almost ready? It’s nearly six thirty. We need to eat, and we have a lot to discuss.”
“I’ll get my purse.”
~*~
Once at The Wharf, Cameron wasted no time in coming to the point. “Celia, now that the Brit is out of the way, it’s time for you and I to come to an understandin’ and discuss our future, the blendin’ of our corporate assets, and of course, children,” he said with a confident smile. “You know your father wanted us to marry, and there is nothing that would make my daddy happier. Mother has always loved you…and you know I have loved you since we were children in grade school.”
Cecilia smiled as she lifted her glass to her lips. …So this is how it is…we negotiate a contract. Well, if that’s how it’s going to be, then I might as well negotiate the best deal I can get.
“Cameron, I’m not ready for a formal arrangement, but if you’re willing to take what I have to offer, I believe we can come to an informal understanding.”
He nodded for her to continue.
“First and foremost, you have to give up Amelia. I won’t have you sleeping with her when you’re supposed to be with me. Second of all, don’t push me into marriage until I say I’m ready. And when we’re married, you will remain faithful. If you don’t, I want a clause written into the prenuptial where I can obtain a speedy divorce with no hassles. Lastly, I will maintain full control over all Lawton assets, including the cotton and rice foundations.” She sat her drink down and crossed her arms over her chest.
He smiled. “I’ll accept your terms as long as the sons you give me are set to inherit Lawton. Other than that, we’ll have our attorneys draw up prenuptials to which we both can agree. As for Amelia, I’ll give her up…on one condition.” Pausing for a sip of wine, he looked Cecilia directly in the eye. “Invite me back into your bed. Spend the weekend with me at Magnolia Place. My parents are in town for the season. We’ll be alone.”
Breathing deeply, she picked up her napkin and unfolded it, placing it neatly in her lap. She cut her eyes across at him and then to the waiter who’d just approached with their meal. This was not what she wanted. The thought was revolting, but she knew she couldn’t keep him at bay forever. A decision had to be made. She’d spent enough time with David to know he wouldn’t be coming back riding on a white steed to rescue her. When the waiter finished serving their food, she picked up her wine glass and made a toast.
“To us. Pick me up on Friday after work. I’ll be ready.” Setting her glass aside, she picked up her fork and began to play with her salad.
~*~
The entire drive back from the restaurant, Cecilia’s stomach churned. For the first time in her life, she felt cheap. She’d just agreed to sleep with, and eventually marry, a man she could barely stand, let alone love. He said he loved her, but she didn’t believe him for a moment. She knew the real reasons for his interest were the merger of Lawton and Taylor Shipping, as well as the merger of two of Charleston’s oldest families. And he had cleverly sidestepped the issue of faithfulness. She inwardly laughed. He would cheat in a New York minute, and she knew it.
When they reached her door, she invited him in. They had the champagne he’d brought while he babbled on about kids, houses, and wealth. She couldn’t really remember what all he’d said. Inwardly, she silently cried. The only thing that reverberated through her mind was David’s laughter…his smiles…his kiss…his touch. Snapping out of her fog, she realized Cameron was leaving.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six for dinner, and then on Friday we’ll go to the plantation. We’ll ride down to the creek by the old gristmill and sit on the rock overlooking the water like we used to. I’ll even bring my sketchbook and a bottle of wine. You bring cheese and grapes.” He laughed. “I still have that collection of poetry I wrote for you when we were teenagers. I’ll bring that, too, and we can read it and reminisce. It’s gonna be like old times... Just you and me, babe. Wait and see.”
She smiled. …No…it’ll never be like it used to be. I don’t love you. I never have. And the old gristmill? It still holds the taint of another woman. You still don’t get it…
Seeing her smile, he pulled her into his arms, talking to her in between peppered kisses. “I’ll make it up to you, baby. All I ask for is two sons…two sons. You can have anything you want—a house full of kids if that’s what you want, or no more than two—provided they’re sons.” Tightening his grip, he continued to kiss her. Finally breaking away, he said, “We have a lot to talk about…a lot to settle. I love you, babe. I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Be ready,” he said, making his way out the door for his car.
Watching him go, Cecilia reflected. She had no brother, no sister, no cousins. Duty and responsibility—the thought of it made her sick. She knew she was settling for one of the most pompous asses in Charleston, but her options had just run out. Suppressing a sob, she lingered against the doorframe, staring out into the nothingness. David wasn’t coming back. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could still see that look… the look of hurt, pain, anger, and betrayal. …David…he was going to marry me…and I lost him…I’ve lost him for good. She shook her head as the tears fell. Every place of refuge had its price, and she had just paid it. She hung her head and cried.
~*~
Getting into his canary-yellow Vette, Cameron sped away to his townhouse on Tradd St. He smiled. He finally had what he wanted—the prettiest woman in Charleston. With her connections, business was sure to improve. He’d have access to the Carolina Gold and the Sea Island Cotton. His wealth would increase substantially. Two of the oldest families in South Carolina would finally be uniting. He grinned. …I can’t wait till this weekend. I still remember what it was like when she wrapped those long legs around me. Celia always was the best piece of ass I’ve ever had. I wonder if she’s still as tight as she used to be. Umm… perhaps we can catch the NCAA playoffs Sunday afternoon. South Carolina’s playin’ against Alabama in the finals.
Chapter Sixty-four
…Oh God, what have I done…?
David exhaled in frustration as he tossed the file in his hand on the side cabinet and fell down in the chair beside his bed. Eyeing the Thai Silk account, he shook his head. Corporate accounts and business were the last things he had on his mind. He reaching into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and took one out. Tapping it on the cabinet, he inhaled sharply and leaned back in his chair.
If he’d thought it had been bad before, it was much worse this time. The sight of happy couples walking arm in arm wherever he went grieved him, and searing pain shot through him every time a leggy blonde walked by. But that was during the day. During the night was another story entirely.
At night, David was barely able to sleep. His body ached, and his mind was flooded with thoughts and memories of Cecilia. He remembered the times they’d
talked late into the night planning their costumes for the Magnolia Ball, the silly little things they’d shared about their respective day, and perhaps the worst and most bittersweet of all were the memories of their passionate nights spent in each other’s arms.
He clenched his jaw. Unable to resist, last week he had looked her up online and had seen her picture with her latest man in The Post and Courier. David smirked contemptuously. Cecilia had wasted no time in moving on, and with him, a man David knew she did not love.
He took out a lighter and lit his cigarette. Taking a long, slow drag, he reflected on recent events. Although he was a man who never did without, he hadn’t been with anyone since he’d known he was in love with Cecilia. It had been three months now since he had slept with a woman. He was not his brother. He could not remain celibate indefinitely, though he doubted he’d ever love again.
He eyed the glass on the side cabinet. Another bottle of brandy, another night …alone. He couldn’t go on like this! He had to get her off his mind. What was he to do? Sandra! He had to see Sandra. She had been his favorite girlfriend before Cecilia. Perhaps they could reconnect.
David quickly grabbed his mobile and searched the directory for her number. Since he hadn’t called her in over a year, he wasn’t sure where she would be at this hour or if she would be working or not. All he knew was that if someone could replace Cecilia, even for one night, it was Sandra. In looks they were very similar. He had to see her.
“David…how good of you to ring,” she said, rather flatly.
The Cumberland Plateau Page 76